He told her in the courtyard.
She had come home from a day that had started with the article and progressed through lunch with Helen and tea with Diana and ended with six calls from potential clients in four states and the specific exhausted energy of someone who had been running on adrenaline since seven in the morning and needed to stop.
She found him in the courtyard in the April evening — the plants in their spring emergence, the first green of the year coming through after the winter’s dormancy. He was sitting on the low wall. The specific posture she had learned to read as him sitting with something.
She sat beside him.
“Tell me,” she said.
He looked at the courtyard for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about the organization,” he said. “About its future.” He held her gaze. “About
